


Day Off

by Skullszeyes



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 11:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13364085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullszeyes/pseuds/Skullszeyes
Summary: Evan has a day off, and he wants to spend it alone, but his friend is there for him when things get too difficult.





	Day Off

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be happy, but I made it kinda sad. The PTSD is subtle, but it's there.  
> I was thinking of making this longer, but it came out short. So don't mind that. Hehe.
> 
> Comments or Kudo's are appreciated.
> 
> (Patti Smith - Because) = Song I was listening to while writing this.

Jonathan shoved open the door the second Evan held a chip with salsa to his mouth, they both looked at one another and Evan ate the chip.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, hoping to spend his day alone.

Jonathan walked over to him, grabbed a chip and dipped it into salsa before eating it. He was dressed in a simple grey shirt and black baggy jeans, he held a knife in one hand while walking away into the next room.

“I forgot my gun.”

Evan sat in the base of their headquarters with nothing but the silence as his companion. He was enjoying the silence and hoped to enjoy it once Jonathan left.

Tyler walked through the door, holding a sniper rifle in his hand with the barrel leaning against his shoulder. “Hurry the fuck up.”

“I am!”

Evan rolled his eyes and continued eating the chips.

Tyler narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you going to sit there all day eating fucking chips?”

He didn’t see how that was a bad thing. “It’s my day off.” He’s been trying to get two weeks off, but the jobs kept sweeping into their lives. His body was jittery since their last job and he knew he wouldn’t be able to calm his nerves for another day or two. It comes with the job, the lifestyle and all he wanted to do was eat his fucking chips without interruptions.

Jonathan sauntered back into the room with a gun and two magazines. He shoved one into the gun and stuck the other in his back pocket. He grinned at Evan, something that looked more like wild dog, sharp and vicious.

“See you later, Vanoss.”

They left and Evan no longer wanted to eat the chips.

After an hour of walking through the various rooms and messing with some of the commands, he was on his way out of the base when he spotted Lui and Brock walking towards him. They were holding a laptop in their hands and their brows were downcast, expressions troubled before they both looked up.

He managed a grimace and knew what was about to be asked.

“Hey, you’re still here,” Lui said, as a means of greeting.

Brock took the computer from Lui’s hands, “Evan, we need your he—”

“It’s my day off,” he said, walking past them toward the door.

“It’s important,” Lui called after him.

“I honestly don’t care.” He had a disgusting tange on his tongue at whatever they wanted him to do. Lui was better at him at hacking, and Brock was a little bit more organized. Evan wasn’t entirely sure what he could do for them, but he didn’t want to think about it.

He shoved the door opened and walked down the steps to the parking garage to his far left. He took out his keys and unlocked his car, got in and started it up. He sat for a moment, closing his eyes with his hands gripping the steering wheel.

Taking a deep breath, Evan left.

Where he went, he wasn’t sure, he drove and drove until the sun went down. He liked the night time driving, it made things seem more real with the building’s bright lights and the many cars that shined in the glow. He slowed down near a liquor store, got out and walked in, standing in behind several people who had the same idea that he did.

He waited while Patti Smith sang on the broken speakers, the smell of alcohol was stale and he fiddled with his money he pulled from his wallet. He wouldn’t deny that being an adult helped with buying his own liquor, and that he didn’t need anyone pulling for him. It did make the action lonely, but he didn’t want to wander down that road of thinking.

He bought a bottle of vodka, whiskey, and Jack Daniels. He left the liquor store and got into his car. He checked his phone and noticed he missed a few phone calls. There was no point in phoning them, he headed back to his apartment. There was another car sitting in the driveway. He glanced up at the roof and shook his head.

“Idiot.”

He climbed the stairs to the top floor. His apartment wasn’t at the top, but at a night without rain, it was a glorious place to be. He pushed open the door to the roof and wandered over to two lawn chairs, one was occupied with a beach umbrella covering his companion’s identity.

“I called you, asshole,” Jonathan said, looking up with a less devious smile, this one spoke warmth and friendliness.

Evan sat down with his alcohol, “It’s my day off.”

“What’d you get?” he asked, gesturing toward the paper bag.

Evan pulled out the bottles and placed them down on the ground. He took the vodka and popped open the lid. “To the night,” he said, taking a sip before grimacing when he pulled away and passed it to Jonathan who was chuckling.

“That belongs to us,” he finished, tipping his head back and taking a sip.

Evan watched him drink it, his throat bobbing with each chug. He extended his arm, “Come on, don’t drink all of it.”

Jonathan pulled the bottle from his mouth and starting coughing. “Fuck, that burns.”

“No shit, you’re supposed to drink it with mix.”

“Where’s the mix?”

“I didn’t buy any,” Evan said, smiling.

Jonathan wiped at his mouth. “So this is your day off, drinking until your shit faced?”

Evan looked down at the bottles and the one that’s in his hand. He sat back and sighed. His body was still shaking and whenever he closed his eyes for too long, he could hear the guns going off, the screaming, the feel of sticky blood at his fingertips, or the pain in his knees when he knelt for too long during a recon, the warmth of a gun in his hand, the cut of a blade that turned into a scar.

“I can’t...I can’t stop seeing things...and feeling it...I need to feel numb for a little awhile.” He didn’t want to talk about it, but there it was, his fears laid out bare for Jonathan to see and he knew that his friend would understand most.

“Don’t drink yourself to sleep, Evan,” Jonathan said, his voice soft, “don’t let yourself fall into that, I know it sucks, and our lifestyle will always be this and maybe one day they’ll be an out, but don’t let yourself fall.”

Evan turned his head, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear. He sniffled, looking back to Jonathan and managed a weak smile. “I won’t…”


End file.
